Running
by Terp4Life
Summary: The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up," and Sarah Linden ran. Again.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Author's Note: **I've never written fanfic before, though I've read lots. When I finished reading all the existing stories for The Killing, I needed more... so here we are.

**Chapter 1**

Sarah Linden left Seattle and didn't look back. Well, that's not entirely true, because she saw Seattle – or rather, she saw flashes of her past in Seattle – everywhere she went. When she first left town, she had no plan other than to get away. Fast. Her first instinct, as it had always been, was to run. She knew that was what she was doing, and she knew that it wouldn't solve her problems, or get the ghosts that haunted her to leave her alone. And yet it was the only thing she could do. So she got in her car and drove, with a car full of her belongings and a tank full of gas. Nothing else. No plans. No forwarding address. No goodbyes.

Of course, it would have been easier if she'd known what precisely she was running _from_. Or what, if anything, she was hoping to find. Some weeks later - or was it months? - she found herself driving down a lonely road along the California coast just as the sun was setting over the ocean. The view was breathtaking, with every color of the rainbow swirled together across the sky. She knew that any normal person would stop and appreciate the view, at least for a few minutes. And yet, even this didn't make her consider stopping even for a second. She was looking for something that she hadn't found yet. Or was she still running _from_ something? She pushed the questions from her mind and drove on into the falling darkness. She preferred the darkness anyway.

As she continued down the scenic coastal road, her eyes flicked ever so quickly to the passenger seat, as they did from time to time. The seat was, of course, empty, and she forced her gaze back at the road. To the sunset. The sky. The passing cars. Even staring vaguely into the distance was preferable to looking at the seat to her right. _Anything_ but that empty seat beside her. She had no right to even think about him, she told herself. Not after how terribly she had fucked everything up – again.

Fucking up relationships was her specialty, after all. It was better to just keep driving.

...

Stephen Holder had solved the case. He and his newest partner had even made it look easy. He had had 4 partners in the past 10 months – he kept requesting new ones as soon as a case closed. The higher ups had their own suspicions about why this was happening, but he was getting the job done. He even seemed to have started doing things by the book, as opposed to kicking in doors with questionable probable cause, requesting a warrant for something that he had actually already searched, or requesting a wiretap for a case that had absolutely nothing to do with terrorism, claiming the Patriot Act. Something had calmed Holder down, though it seemed more like a brooding, unhappy calm. Nonetheless, his superiors indulged him.

He and his most recent partner, Carpenter, had gotten along well enough, but whenever the newbie - Holder had been assigned to train him - suggested hanging out after hours, Holder declined. He claimed one excuse or another, and eventually Carpenter gave up. The truth was, Holder just wasn't interested. He lived alone, and he wasn't interested in making friends. He figured it was better that way. He had just become a father, which had brought him a joy that he hadn't known he could feel. Besides that, he had his NA meetings and his sister and her kids. He really didn't want or need anyone else in his life. It was better that way. Or so he kept telling himself.

Had he become a little bit anti-social? Maybe. And so what if he had? To someone who had known him before Sarah Linden left town, it might have seemed that some part of him had disappeared with her, just as suddenly. Or maybe it was just a result of the stress that he had been under during the Stansbury case. Holder was still the same "mystery wrapped in a conundrum," but something was different about him. Where he had once been willing to engage in meaningless banter with his coworkers, he was now all business. Of course, no one would dare suggest to his face that this change might have anything to do with Linden. It was an unwritten rule in the precinct that you did not mention the name "Sarah Linden" when Holder was around. To say that he was still angry with her, now almost a year after the Stansbury case had closed and that whole mess with Skinner had been "cleared up" by Mayor Richmond, was a massive understatement. He tried his best not to think about her at all, and to move on. He knew that those angry thoughts went against the whole "happy, joyous and free" thing he was trying to do. And staying clean was crucial, especially now that he was a father. So instead he filled his time with the people who _hadn't_ accused him of betraying them and then fled into the night.

No, he certainly didn't have time or energy to waste on Sarah Linden.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Chapter 2**

As much as she shied away from staying still even for a short time, Sarah Linden had to admit that a walk on the beach was not the worst thing she could be doing. The sea air did smell good after so many consecutive days in the car, and the junk food sold on the boardwalk was an interesting change from highway rest stops. Her hot dog and funnel cake tasted good, and she managed not to let the very aggressive seagulls steal any of either one.

"At least you're eating food that don't come from vending machines!" The thought formed in her head before she could stop it. She immediately shook her head to physically push it out of her mind, knowing exactly whose voice she had heard saying it.

It was 1:00 p.m. and oppressively hot and humid in Ocean City, New Jersey as Linden walked down toward the water. The warm breeze whipped her red hair into her face, despite her trademark pony tail, but didn't provide any relief from the heat. She noticed that a few shells had washed up with the tide, but she stepped around them and kept walking. She wasn't a shell collector.

She couldn't explain what had brought her out to the beach on this unseasonably warm day. The New Jersey shore was known for extreme weather, but it was unusually hot even for late September, even here. Activity along the shore always took a nose dive after Labor Day and the start of the new school year, so on the weekdays here it was easy to forget how crowded it had been only a few short weeks ago. There weren't many other people on the beach, and only a few locals in the shops along the boardwalk. As she walked back up the beach she looked down at her sneakers, which were filling with sand with each step she took. She stopped for a moment and pulled off her shoes and socks, deciding it was easier to carry them. Besides, the feeling of sand beneath her feet was not completely unpleasant, and she planned to walk for a few more minutes.

Suddenly the familiar scent of cigarette smoke wafted through the air, startling her out of the trance like state the ocean had lulled her into. She whipped her head around as if she expected to see… who, exactly? She shook her head at her own stupidity. Out of the tens of millions of Americans who smoke, she expected – hoped? – that one particular one happened to be standing nearby? One who lived 3,000 miles from where she was currently standing? She let out a heavy sigh, and mumbled "Dammit, Holder!" under her breath, slipped her socks and shoes back on, and strode quickly back to her car. This pit stop was over, and she was running again.

…

How did he end up in this greasy diner, _again_? He swore every time he came here that he wasn't coming back. His ex had been there with him once and after that she had refused to go back. So why didn't it bother him? There were plenty of other places Holder could have eaten. He could answer that question for himself without much effort. It was near work. He knew the menu by heart, even if nothing on it was really that good. The waitresses all knew him, and they sometimes brought him free food. Those were good enough reasons, right?

Sure, unless he was going to be honest with himself – the real reason was that he had been there with the only truly good partner he'd ever had, on more than one occasion. Sometimes they had been pissed at each other, sometimes they'd been on speaking terms. More than once, one of them had been going through something traumatic and awful. Just about every time he'd been forcing her to order _something_, because the woman did not seem to ever eat if he didn't make her. Dammit, but she was frustrating.

He sighed, and dropped his money beside the bill on the table, suddenly needing to leave this place and the memories it held. As much as he came here to remember, at the same time he wished he could forget.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Chapter 3**

Sarah Linden sat straight up in bed, suddenly awake and drenched in sweat. She was afraid to remember the dream she had just had, so she focused on taking a few deep breaths instead. The clock said it was 3:14 a.m. Where was she again? She looked around her run down hotel room, looking for clues, still drowsy enough that it took a moment before she remembered where exactly she was. Memphis. This week she was in Memphis. The cities were really becoming a blur.

She pushed back the blankets on her bed and went to the sink for a glass of water. The tap water tasted terrible here, but the liquid was better than nothing. She perched along the edge of the bed and cautiously let herself remember what had jolted her awake.

Closing her eyes, she saw tall trees, like the ones by the prison. And Seward, the man she had put away, and then tried so hard to save at the last second. Except she couldn't. Then suddenly it came rushing back to her. In her dream, it had been the day of Seward's execution all over again, except it was all happening in slow motion. As if normal speed hadn't been bad enough! She had been reliving it all in her sleep. No wonder she woke up stressed and sweaty.

How _had _she gotten through that day, anyway? It was a bit of a blur. Then she realized that she had made it through that day the same way she had made it through everything else from the time she was put on the Rosie Larsen case until the day she left Seattle. _With help from Holder_. Help that she had fought tooth and nail for a long time. She sighed heavily and shook her head, allowing herself to think about him, just for a minute. How even just sitting next to him calmed her nerves. Made her feel safe. He always knew what to say, when to tell a joke… though he didn't always know when to shut up. She couldn't help smiling as she tried to imagine how many times she'd said "Shut up, Holder."

Maybe she should… NO. It was better – for _him_ – if that door stayed closed.

…

Holder hadn't ever imagined himself walking around the neighborhood pushing a stroller, but here he was, pushing not just a stroller, but a PINK one! But that was fine, his manhood wasn't threatened by this pink stroller. He preferred to think of it as the chariot that his little princess deserved. Speaking of the little princess, she had finally fallen asleep. He was kinda enjoying this trip around the block, out in the sunshine and fresh air. He couldn't help but notice how the ladies looked at him as he pushed Kalia in the stroller. Not that he was interested, of course.

He had stopped at the corner and was waiting to cross the street when out of the corner of his eye he swore he saw… Nope. He turned his head to see just a random red-head who otherwise looked nothing like her. He noted that the momentary thought of Linden hadn't made him angry. This was progress. In fact, he actually felt a twinge of disappointment that it wasn't her. Now _that _was definitely a new one! And just what would he done if it _had_ been her? He couldn't answer that question, but it didn't matter because it wasn't her. The light ahead of him changed, and on he walked, letting out only the smallest of sighs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Chapter 4**

It was a cloudy, windy day that found Sarah Linden on the ferry from Mackinaw City, Michigan – the very northern tip of the mitten shape – to Macinac Island (also pronounced Mackinaw but spelled differently for some reason she couldn't understand), the small island in Lake Huron that tourists in northern Michigan flock to during the summer months. It was now the off season, and the ferry was all but deserted. She could have driven across the enormous suspension bridge that also connected the island to the "mainland," but Sarah was feeling nostalgic today; this ferry reminded her a bit of the one that went between Seattle and Vashon Island, where she had once lived. The last place she had really called "home."

She was on the top deck of the boat, looking out at the churning water. The wind was blowing her hair in every direction, but she didn't try to stop it. It was the anniversary of the day they had been given the Rosie Larsen murder case. It was because of this that Sarah was having even more trouble keeping the ghosts at bay today than she usually did.

"_So where's home these days?" Reggie. If she could only see me now._

"_Dial 1-900-Linden!" And the look she had given him when he said that. "That's not even enough numbers." It hadn't bothered him, he was completely pleased with his own silliness._

"_Mom, have you talked to Holder?" Jack seemed to ask that every time she talked to him. Why did it matter so much to him?_

So many faces materialized before her eyes as she stared at the water without actually seeing it. So many people whose lives had been destroyed, or at least damaged beyond repair. The Larsens. Mayor Richmond. Even Jack, who she wanted so desperately to protect, but somehow just couldn't seem to do it right. So many people who had been hurt during that investigation. So much destruction in the wake of Hurricane Sarah.

One face from her past materialized before her eyes, and despite the ghosts that haunted her today, a hint of a smile involuntarily crossed her lips. _Holder. _It had been such a novelty for her to have, for once in her life, a real friend. It was a shame she couldn't have been one to him in return. The smile disappeared at that thought, replaced by pursed lips.

As had happened more and more lately, she struggled with the desire to push the thought of him out of her mind, and the need to hold on to it just a little longer. And as always, after a few brief seconds, she forced the thought out. It was just too much. It was easier to run.

…

It was raining. Of course it was raining, this was Seattle and it seemed as though it was _always _raining! Murder investigations were extra grim when it rained. It wasn't even the rain itself – though it didn't help – but the darkness that the rain clouds brought with them. As if death and the sordid details around the cases that he investigated weren't dark enough.

Holder was very much aware of what day it was, and it wasn't helping his mood. It was the anniversary of the day that had changed so many things in his life, but not all in an especially happy way. It had been his first day on the job in homicide when he stumbled onto the Rosie Larsen case. During that case he'd seen his first dead body – though certainly not his last.

And of course, it was on this day that he had met Sarah Linden. She'd been allegedly about to move to California, and she'd pretty much treated him like dirt. She had literally been a first class bitch since Day 1. But watching her work, man, he'd learned so much. The woman had instincts like no one he'd ever seen before.

And somehow, at some point along the crazy ride through that case, he'd grown attached to her. They'd developed an understanding. She was rough around the edges, sure. But he sure as hell was too. After everything he'd been through the past few years, he didn't have any friends left. And it was clear to him almost immediately that she didn't have any either. There was a reason she was so good at her job – when she was in the zone, she neglected everything and everyone else, herself included. He had never understood how she didn't even need to eat or sleep in order to function, and even still she was fucking brilliant at her job.

OK, so she had left – for like 5 minutes – when she had _thought _the case was closed, and then fled when it actually was. And she had hidden from the world for a while… _**but she had come back. Twice.**_

He knew he shouldn't focus on the fact that she had come back in the past, but he realized that he had actually started hoping that she_ would_ come back someday. His anger was gone, and he missed his BFF. He wished he could ask her exactly what had happened toward the end of the Stansbury case and the goddamn mess with Skinner to make her so sure he had betrayed her. Had it really just been that damn bullet casing that she couldn't find? The stress had been unbearable, for both of them, and he had watched her break. Worst of all, then he had done nothing to help her, when she was so obviously in pain. He let her leave town believing that he had betrayed her. But what could he have done? Something. He knew now that he should have done something. He hated the thought that she had run because of him.

But he couldn't change any of that now. All he could do was hope that wherever she had run to, she was keeping the demons at bay. He knew all too well what it was like to lose that fight.

Of course this time there would be no new evidence to lure her back, and he couldn't tempt her back with a new case. He didn't even have a phone number for her, and he wouldn't have known what to say if he had. This time, she was going to have to make it back on her own… and knowing Sarah as he did, he wasn't sure that was ever going to happen.

And so, life went on. And rain, and work… and yet, hope.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Chapter 5**

An early morning run to clear her head. That's what Sarah had woken up feeling like she needed. She'd slept fitfully, as usual, probably not for more than 4 hours altogether. She'd long since learned to exist on caffeine and inertia, so it wasn't a problem.

She hadn't been for a run in ages, and it seemed like a good idea. Running was good exercise and it had always helped her focus in the past. Besides, what good was this journey she was on (literally and figuratively) if she dragged all her demons along with her? She'd crossed the country, looped south, looped north, then south again. This week she was in Jacksonville, Florida, but that didn't mean she'd be here next week, or even tomorrow. Whatever it was that she was running from (or to), she hadn't figured it out yet.

She began to question her "good idea" around mile 3, but she managed to make it through 5 miles before she stopped. By then, she was fairly sure that jumping in a pool would not have changed her outward appearance very much. It was just after 9:00 a.m. and already the Florida sun combined with the humidity had ganged up on her. She slowed to a walk outside a large building that appeared to be both open and air conditioned. Perfect! She'd just duck inside for a second.

She followed a few twenty-somethings through the bare lobby and past another set of glass doors, and suddenly she was in what resembled a warehouse turned used book store. Books were arranged on rows of shelves from the floor to the ceiling, with hand written labels on those shelves indicating the section that each held. The amount of organization in this giant room must have taken weeks, she thought.

She walked without any real interest in what books were where, past Fiction and Biographies and Travel, just admiring the sheer scale of the room. Then suddenly, at the end of the first row of shelves on a wooden table beside a puffy blue chair, she noticed a book that someone had left out. It was a hardcover book with a picture of a swarm of butterflies on the cover. The title was simply Monarchs.

Sarah stopped dead in her tracks for half a second. NO! She would not allow the thought in her mind for even a millisecond. Today it was just too much.

She turned around and walked back out of the store as quickly as she could without making anyone think she was stealing from them. Once outside, she leaned her back against the wall of the building, trying to catch her breath, suddenly not noticing the heat. There was only one thought in her mind.

RUN.

She ran back to her motel, despite the heat and how tired she had already been. After a shower, she quickly packed her few belongings and checked out of the room she'd been staying in for three days, though she had planned to stay a bit longer. She left Jacksonville behind, and didn't look back.

…

Oh, how Holder hated Tuesday mornings.

Every Tuesday morning for a long time now, he had been meeting up with Caroline before work to transfer Kalia and all of the necessities that went with her – a diaper bag and a never ending amount of other small miscellaneous accessories – back to her mother. The worst part was watching as they drove away. He felt his heart break a little more every time, even though he knew he'd see her again in a few days.

Then it was on to work. Tuesdays were definitely the hardest to get through. His coworkers knew the routine, and generally left him alone, if possible, on Tuesday mornings. It was also no coincidence that he had started going to NA meetings on Tuesdays, when work didn't interfere. It helped to fill the void, helped keep him focused and on track.

He often wondered if it would always be like this, and had to constantly remind himself that _nothing_, good or bad, lasts forever. "One day at a time," he often told himself. Today was no exception.

That afternoon, he let himself into his apartment, dropping his keys on the counter, and looked around. Several pairs of pink shoes were sitting neatly by the door. Damn, how'd that kid already have so many shoes, anyway? A pink, plastic wagon had been parked by the far wall. It was piled high with various toys, mostly the ones that lit up and made noise as soon as they were touched ever so slightly. Holder had accidentally kicked that wagon more than once, usually while Kalia was sleeping, of course. He hoped she wouldn't soon pick up the words he used each time he _did_ kick the wagon.

He paced aimlessly a few times, before walking to the shelf that held his book collection. His "knowledge corner," as he called it. As often happened on Tuesdays, he needed to distract himself with something. He reached up and randomly pulled a book off the shelf. A smile crossed his face when he saw which one he had picked out. It was that book about butterflies that Linden had picked out when she and Jack had crashed there during the Rosie Larsen case. The book that she had _taken_ when she left his place – without asking him! – and it had actually helped her make a connection with the case, with Rosie. Because that's just how good Linden had been at her job. Something that wouldn't have meant anything to anyone else was a clue to her. He hadn't looked at that book since he had put it back on the shelf when the case closed a few years before.

He sighed, shook his head slightly and replaced the book on the shelf. It was a good memory… but DAMN.

Yep, fuckin' Tuesdays.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Chapter 6**

Sarah Linden looked up from the thick paperback she had been trying to read for the past half hour, sighed, and put it down. There was no point in continuing, because after 30 minutes she still had absolutely no idea what the book was about, or even what it was called. This whole relaxing thing was just not her.

She got up from the oversized deck chair she had been sitting in, and walked to the railing of the large wooden deck. Her current accommodations were by far superior to anywhere she had stayed in so long, she can't even remember what she would compare it to. That's the difference between a cheap motel, and renting out a room in a gorgeous vacation house, she thought to herself. But she had discovered that in Maine – North Haven Island, to be specific - during the off season, it was just as economical, if not more so, to stay in a house as a hotel. And boy, was the view from this deck spectacular.

Her gaze traveled across the lake that stretched out before her, only a short walk from the house. She decided to stretch her legs, take a walk down that way and maybe check it out. The path that led to the water was well worn. It split in two different directions about halfway to the small beach at the edge of the lake, one side continuing toward the water, and the other side disappearing between the trees at the edge of the property. Sarah decided that since she wasn't in any hurry, she'd see how far the wooded path went.

She'd walked for about 5 minutes in the stillness and low light when suddenly she felt déjà vu mixed with dread. Her footsteps slowed to a stop just before a bend in the path that took it further into the trees and out of view. Just in front of her, and down a small hill, stood a large tree that was not remarkably different from any of the others in this wooded area. Still, she stared at it for a moment before a memory flashed before her eyes. A horrible one. The memory was of Holder, beaten and unconscious, laying up against a tree very much like the one in front of her, in a wooded part of the Indian land near the Wapi Eagle Casino. That was how they had found him that night, when she hadn't known if he had been alive or dead. It felt like lifetimes ago now, and yet the terror still felt fresh.

All this took less than 5 seconds to run through her mind, by which time she had turned around and bolted for the cabin. Back on the deck, she collapsed back into the chair she had abandoned and put her head in her hands, trying to catch her breath, but gasping for air.

_Why did this seem to happen to her everywhere she went? _

Deep down she had a suspicion, but she refused to even acknowledge it. Like all the other times, she got in her car and she was running again.

…

Caroline may not have been with Holder very long when they had split up, but she was very good at reading people. It was part of her job. She may only have been spending a few minutes with him twice a week these days, as they were exchanging Kalia and her things, but she could tell that something was off about him. There was no doubt that something was definitely bothering him. She tried to ask him about it, but he claimed that it was just the case that he was currently working on that was wearing on him.

Holder knew as soon as Caroline started asking him if something was wrong, that something must be off. It hadn't occurred to him that he was acting differently, but that woman had some excellent people-reading skills, and if anyone would notice, it was her. Of course he _was_ working on a stressful case, that part wasn't a lie. But lately he felt like his cases were getting to him more and more. Not consuming his life, just… it was hard to explain. Sure, people told him he has good at his job. Maybe it was just that. Maybe seeing that much darkness, that much death and chaos was doing something to him. He decided to try to pay closer attention at work and try to pin down exactly what had him feeling that way.

At the same time, he also knew that it wasn't just about work. Even when he was at home on his days off lately, there had been another feeling – not anxiety, exactly – just a gnawing feeling he couldn't explain that kept him from completely relaxing. He'd had that feeling for about a week now. Standing at the end of the hallway in his apartment that evening and looking into the living room, he suddenly had a memory of Sarah Linden standing by his window. She was peering out into the darkness and unable to relax, convinced that someone was watching her. He remembered assuring her that she was safe there, and wishing he could convince her that it was _true_.

"You OK, Linden?" he asked his empty apartment, in a barely audible whisper.

He hoped that she was OK, wherever she was.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much to all of you for reading this story so far, and for your reviews. This is my first ever fanfic so I wasn't sure what to expect, and it has been even more fun to write it than I had imagined it would be! I hope you are enjoying it, but I'm not done yet. Linden has a lot to work through.

**Chapter 7**

Once again, Sarah Linden had been driving for days without stopping to rest for more than a few hours at a time. It was a skill that had come in handy when they were working an important case, though she knew it wasn't a healthy way to live. When she pulled up outside a nondescript hotel just outside of Austin, Texas, she had just about reached her travel limit, and figured that this was as good a place as any to stop for a few days. There was nothing special about this hotel, or this area in general, at least as far as she could see.

She went inside and paid for a room, then stopped at the vending machines on her way to the elevator. Tomorrow she would definitely see about getting some real food, but today she was hot and tired. Checking the small folder that was wrapped around her key card, she saw that her room was on the 10th floor. While it seemed like more than a coincidence – she had spent a lot of time and energy finding out what had happened on the 10th floor of the Wapi Eagle Casino in Seattle during the Rosie Larsen case – she was getting more and more used to these "coincidences." Since she had left Seattle, she didn't think she'd been anywhere that didn't remind her of that time at least once. She took a slow deep breath and pressed the elevator button for the 10th floor, congratulating herself for remaining calm.

Once upstairs, she took a shower and changed into her pajamas. It was 3:30 p.m. but she was completely exhausted. She looked at herself long and hard in the bathroom mirror. How long had she been running like this? Was it doing her any good? She didn't feel any more at home here than she had in any other random place where she had stayed in her entire life. As for what she was running _from… _She was almost ready to admit to herself, after all this time, that she was hiding. From life, and mainly from people.

She really hadn't consciously realized it before, but when Kyle Stansbury had said it that day in her house, that thought had implanted itself in her memory.

"No one is going to find you here, Kyle," she had told him.

"Is that why you're here? So no one will find you?"

It had never occurred to her that that might be what she was doing. But she had reason not to trust people. They just never understood. They didn't understand how much power they had over her when she trusted them. She ended up hurt so often, and she had to protect herself. No one else was going to do it for her, after all. It was the biggest lesson of her childhood. She gave herself the tiniest of sad smiles in the mirror, then turned off the light and walked across the room to the bed.

As she climbed in bed, she was already deep in thought. Yes, she was damaged, but the real reason she was hiding? It had been there all along. Shame. Guilt. Embarrassment. She winced as she heard her own words ringing in her ears – _"I should've known you would leave me too."_ And then to find out not long afterwards that she'd been wrong about him. That he actually _was_ the one person who hadn't left her. Who **wouldn't** leave her. No matter how far she ran, she couldn't get away from herself. She groaned as she realized that she would have to come to terms with this. But not tonight. Tonight, sleep.

…

It was late, and Holder had had a hell of a week. He wasn't sure if what he had been feeling lately was burnt out, or if it was just this case and would get better now that it was solved. He was on his way back to the station to fill out some paperwork, when traffic seemed to conspire against him and came to a stop only a short distance before he could have pulled off the road to turn.

Sitting in traffic, his mind wandered aimlessly. To Kalia, his princess, who was growing up every day. To his sister, who he owed a phone call to. To his job – this was about the time he'd usually ask for a new partner. But really, would it do any good? Because none of them could measure up… and just like that, his mind was on Linden. It had already been… what? A few years? But he was nothing if not patient. He glanced at the passenger seat, and just then the traffic moved forward.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Chapter 8**

Sarah Linden was sitting in the Boston Public Gardens, deep in thought. Or rather, she was deep in people watching. She wasn't thinking about much, except perhaps to wonder about the people strolling by in front of her. Her picnic blanket was a cheap checkered tablecloth that she'd bought at a dollar store somewhere in her travels. She had actually picked up a sandwich and a drink – from a deli! Not a vending machine! – and had been happily people watching under a tree in one of the prettiest parts of Boston for the better part of two hours. Or maybe it was three hours. Possibly four. In any case, it was pretty darn relaxing here.

As darkness descended, she accepted the fact that she should head back to her motel, as boring and generic as it was. She couldn't very well spend the night in the Public Gardens. Surely the police would have something to say about that. Still, she hated to leave this beautiful park to return to another generic motel room. It was just as bad as just about every motel room she'd stayed in over the past few years, and this day had been one of the nicest she could remember in quite a long time.

Back in her room, she changed clothes, washed her face, brushed her teeth and flipped on the tv. There wasn't really anything on, so after flipping through all the channels she left it on some sitcom she didn't recognize. As she laid in bed, the noise of the tv helped lull her into a semi-conscious state. As they seemed to at some point most days, bits and pieces of conversations she'd had with people in her former life, the one in Seattle, drifted through her mind as sleep toyed with her. So many regrets, so much destruction from Hurricane Sarah in the lives of so many.

She was alert enough to reach over and turn off the light and the tv just before she fell asleep. Just as she drifted off, a familiar conversation floated through her mind. This one visited her often, probably because it was one of her more pleasant memories.

"_Holder, I'm sorry. We shouldn't have split up." _

"_It happened. We're good, Linden. You're still my BFF."_

She may not have known it, but she fell asleep that night with a smile on her face.

…

It was a Tuesday again, which meant that Holder wasn't having a particularly great day. Nothing especially bad happened that day, but saying goodbye to Kalia, even for a few days, never failed to start his day off on the wrong foot. As he usually did, he went to his NA meeting that afternoon. The distraction combined with the support of the mostly familiar faces took the edge off of the unpleasantness that was Tuesday.

At the end of the meeting, when he was chatting with several acquaintances, the group leader, Mike, asked to talk to him. They went into the next room, where there were a few padded chairs next to a few matching end tables, and sat down. "Holder," Mike began, "I just wanted to tell you how much progress I think you've been making here. As long as I've known you, you've been so dedicated, so positive – all things considered…"

"Thanks, Mike," Holder responded. He wasn't sure if Mike just wanted to compliment his dedication to the program, or if there was something more coming.

"Anyway," Mike continued, "I was wondering if you'd be willing to take on a bit of a bigger role here. There are so many newbies, and they could really use your good example."

"Yeah, sure," Holder grinned. It was a little silly, but he was proud that Mike would ask this of him. His sister still wasn't sure if she wanted him around _her_ kids.

"Cool," said Mike. "I have a few things to go over to get you up to speed on that. You busy now?"

"Nope, now's good for me."

"Great, let go get some coffee and we can talk."

Holder arrived home a few hours later, feeling better than he had on any Tuesday in recent memory. The darkness of his job was momentarily forgotten. It felt good to know that he had a chance to make a positive difference somewhere it was really needed. He couldn't do much to help the dead people at his regular job.

He went to the kitchen and rummaged through the refrigerator and the cupboards, curious to see what he could make for himself with what he had on hand. Investigation of the first cupboard didn't turn up anything useful. As he moved things around in the second cupboard, however, he came across a jar of one of his favorites, habanero jelly.

He couldn't help but smile to himself, because for whatever reason, that stuff always reminded him of the morning after the night Linden and Jack had crashed there. Linden never even tasted those eggs he had made for them because work called, and God forbid the woman stop for two minutes to eat. He'd been a bit annoyed at the time, but now the memory made him smile. Most of his memories of her did, even this many years later.

Yep, this was definitely the best Tuesday he'd had in a long time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Author's Note:** I don't know how this chapter got so long! I almost never know where they're going to go when I start writing them, they just kind of happen. So I hope you enjoy it, though it's a lot longer than the rest.

**Chapter 9**

French was not a language that Sarah had ever learned in school. And yet, here she was, having just driven across the Canadian border from New York State into Quebec, Canada. It was late, and dark, and only a few people were on the road. It didn't look too different from the New York side of the border, except that the signs held either unfamiliar pictures, or were in French. She knew that "km" meant kilometers, but wasn't too sure how the numbers converted. She had learned it at some point, but couldn't remember, so she stuck to the speed of the few other cars.

She didn't know what had possessed her to cross the border into Canada, but then, she could say that same thing about the entire last four (had it been _four years?_) or so years of her life. Why start analyzing it now?

In just under an hour, the lights of the Montreal skyline came into view. She crossed the Champlain Bridge and followed signs for "Centre-Ville" (downtown), arriving a short time later at her destination, _Rue St. Catherine_. In her very short time spent on research about Montreal, she had read that Saint Catherine Street was pretty much the hub of activity in downtown Montreal. _Just as good a place as any_, she thought. Not that she was looking to meet people or anything, but at least there'd be something to see there.

Distraction. She'd been thinking a little too much lately, about things and people that she was trying not to think about. Distraction was what she needed. She knew that was she was doing was classic avoidance, but she couldn't help it.

It was better that way.

She found a half decent hotel just off of St. Catherine Street, and parked her car there. After paying for a room and dropping off her few possessions, she ventured out into the cold night air. She told herself she was going out to look for something to eat, knowing very well that she didn't care what or if she ate at all. The only person who had really seemed concerned about whether she skipped meals or not was –

There she was, doing it again. _Nope. Not going there._ She pulled her coat tighter around her and walked faster toward the lights and noise of Montreal nightlife.

Rounding the corner onto St. Catherine, she was met with an onslaught of lights – there seemed to be neon signs everywhere. People crowded the sidewalk in large and small groups, talking animatedly in English, French, and other languages that she didn't recognize. So much life in such a small space. The sidewalks were wide, but still sidewalks, and the crowd formed a swirling mass, moving in all directions at once. She decided to stick to the edge closest to the curb, where it was less crowded. The traffic on the road was light, unlike the sidewalks.

Unlike the rest of the crowd, Sarah moved slowly along the edge of the street, observing the activity around her. It was situations like this – watching other people as they hurried on with their lives, where she felt simultaneously the safest and the most alone. She had always told herself that alone was a good thing, and even though she had long ago come to almost believe it, that didn't erase the sting she felt as she watched so many people, all with things to do and people to do them with. _That could be you, if you'd let it,_ a voice told her. She shook her head to dislodge the idea. She had never had a choice. Everyone left. That's just the way it was. Better to do it first and not get hurt.

Outside of a "gentleman's club," which she was surprised to find right along the main road, it appeared that a man and a woman were having a heated argument. They must have had quite a bit to drink, because they didn't seem to care that they were screaming at each other in front of an entire sidewalk full of complete strangers, and they both seemed to be having trouble standing upright. Sarah didn't know what they were saying to each other, but it must have been getting nasty, judging from both the inflection in their voices as well as the astonished whispers from the people around her. Like many other people, she slowed to a halt to see what would happen between the pair.

Finally, they each shouted something that must have been very rude at each other, and then stumbled off in different directions. The crowd began moving slowly again, but Linden remained where she had been standing at the curb. The argument had triggered a memory that she didn't like to think about, but that she couldn't manage to push away.

It was probably one of the worst fights that she and Holder had ever had (short of the day she had pulled her gun on him and accused him of betraying her, of course).

In a flash, she was back in that car with him, the vile words coming out of her mouth, no matter how she tried to hold them in. "I was wrong about you. You're just a fucking junkie like the rest of them."

And Holder, who knew exactly what buttons to push with her, replying, "How's Jack doing by the way? Aren't you supposed to take him to the airport now?" Which of course, she had forgotten.

More heated words were exchanged between the two of them, before they finally parted, with Linden screaming "Fuck you!" and Holder replying "Yeah, fuck you too!"

She came back to the present and realized that she was still firmly planted in the same spot she'd been standing for the past few minutes. She forced her feet to continue walking, but she was shaken from the flashback. _When will this stop?_ she wondered. Her brain tried to insert logic about running from something inside your own head, but she dismissed it without allowing the thought to form. She walked until the noise and lights of the Montreal nightlife died down behind her. She realized that she didn't know a thing about this city, or this street, and where a good area would turn into a bad area.

She should probably turn around about now, she told herself. Instead, she saw an alcove near the entrance to the building in front of her, and she walked over and leaned her back against the smooth stone of the building wall, sinking down to the ground. She sat, knees folded in against her chest and her head hanging down almost to her knees. _It doesn't matter where I go_, she thought in defeat. _Nowhere is any better than anywhere else._

Suddenly she heard heavy footsteps, and smelled cigarette smoke. She looked up to see a figure in a grey hoodie in front of her, his face obscured by shadows. _Wait a second…that can't be…_

"Eh, madame, ca va bien?"

_Ohhh, French. _Nope, she was mistaken once again. Sarah looked up and tried to smile. "I'm sorry, I don't speak French," she replied.

"Miss, are you OK?" he asked again in heavily accented English. The man had stepped out of the shadow and now appeared to be in his early twenties. He had a concerned look on his face.

"Yes, thank you. Just not a good day." Sarah decided it was time to get up and head back down the street, before her night got any worse. She took a few steps past him.

"Miss, whatever it is, it will be OK," the young man said kindly. She turned around and managed a smile.

"Thank you. Merci." She took about ten steps, then looked over her shoulder to see if he was still behind her, but he was nowhere to be seen.

She decided that this was just another of the many, many coincidences that she had encountered since leaving Seattle. It had become almost a given, and she was tired of fighting it tonight. She walked back down Rue St. Catherine, rounded the corner and found her hotel. It was time to call it a day.

…

His cell phone started ringing as he unlocked his apartment door. He pushed the door closed behind him, threw his keys on the counter and fished his phone out of his pocket. The display said _Jack._ He plopped down on the couch as he flipped his phone open.

"Hey, Little Man! Long time no talk!"

"Hey, Holder."

"What you been up to?"

"Ya know, school. I got a part time job, too. At the shoe store in the mall."

"Yeah? You like it?"

"It's OK." Jack paused before continuing. "Anything new with you?"

"Haven't heard from her, Little Man."

"Oh, OK. Just figured I'd ask."

"Hey, you talked to her recently, right?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"And how was she? OK?"

"Yeah, it was last week. I think she was in… Boston? Or maybe that was the last time…" Holder could hear Jack sigh at the other end of the line.

"Little Man, you don't worry about your moms, OK? She's alright. She's gotta do what she's gotta do. Take it one day at a time, OK? It's all good."

"You think so?" Jack didn't sound convinced.

"Your moms is the strongest person I know. Nothin's gonna happen to her. I'm sure we're gonna see her soon. Both of us. OK?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"That's what I'm talkin about. Hey, you coming back to Seattle one of these days? Haven't seen you in like twenty years!"

"Holder, I'm not even twenty years old!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, youngin! But one of these days we'll hang out, OK?"

"OK, Holder. Hey, I gotta get going. Gotta go to work in a few minutes."

"Alright, Little Man. You hang in there, OK? Chin up. And call me anytime."

"Thanks, Holder. Bye."

"Later, Little Man."

Holder sat back on the couch and sighed. He wished he felt as confident as he had been with Jack. _One day at a time_, he told himself. _Have faith._


	10. Chapter 10

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Author's Note: **We're in the home stretch now… I promise, Linden's not going to run forever. It may get a little cheesier between now and then end… but that's just how I saw it in my head. If you have a chance, please review!

**Chapter 10**

It had been three weeks since Sarah arrived in Chicago. She'd gotten to spend time with Jack for the first time in quite a while, which had been good for her soul. She knew that hadn't been the best mom to him growing up, but she had missed him terribly since he'd moved in with his dad. He had grown into such a gentleman, and she was so proud of him. It still amazed her that he was in _college_!

Still, Chicago wasn't home. She had had a lovely visit, but it was time to move on. Three weeks was the longest she'd been anywhere in the past five years, and she was beginning to feel restless. She hadn't quite decided where she was going next, but she was thinking of heading west. It had been a long time since she was on that side of the country.

"Mom, you should call Holder. He misses you."

Jack's words from the previous day rang in her ears as she packed up and checked out of her hotel room that morning. It seemed so simple to Jack… But he didn't know the whole story, how much more complicated it was than that. She knew that Jack had kept in touch with Holder, though she didn't know how often. It made her happy and sad at the same time (and maybe a tiny bit jealous, which, of course, made no sense) to think about the two of them staying in touch. Like everything in her life, it was just too much to sort out.

That morning Sarah met Jack for breakfast at a coffee shop downtown. She marveled once again at how much he had grown in the past few years. Jack had become familiar with the sentimental look on her face over the past few weeks. "Mom, _stop_!" he groaned. He knew she was going to cry when she left. He wondered if he would too. Since he'd spent so much time wondering where she was and if she was OK over the past few years, he'd come to feel very protective of her. Sarah just smiled. So many things in life were hard, but at least she had Jack, and he had turned out OK despite having had her for a mother.

Though she hated to leave, eventually the time came for Jack to get to class. She hugged him tightly and promised that they'd see each other again soon. When? They'd work that out later. She didn't really have a plan, which didn't surprise Jack at all. He stood on the sidewalk and watched her walk down the street towards her car, not moving until she turned the corner a few blocks away. Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around? Wasn't she supposed to worry about him? Jack sighed and turned to cross the street along with the throng of morning pedestrians. _One day at a time_, that's what Holder had said.

Sarah was about an hour outside of the city when she stopped at a gas station. She reached into her purse for her wallet, and her fingers found an unexpected envelope. Puzzled, she pulled it out to find "Mom" scrawled across the front in Jack's somewhat legible handwriting. _What is this kid up to?_ she wondered. In any case, it was a thoughtful surprise.

She was a little taken aback when she opened the card, which had a picture of a sunrise and no text on the front, to see that he had filled the entire inside with writing, which also spilled onto the back side of the card. _What's all this?_

_Dear Mom,_

_I know I'm your kid, and it's weird to think about giving you advice. But we've never been a normal family, and there's a few things I think you should know._

_First, I know you don't want me to, but I worry about you. You're the tough cop, even now that you're not a cop anymore. You don't let anybody mess with you, and that's awesome. But tough cops are people too. You need to let someone in. It wasn't Reggie, or Dad, or even me. But mom, you can't go through life completely on your own. No one should have to do that. I know you're scared – it's ok to admit that – and yes, bad things can happen when you get close to people. But you taught me that it's ok to be scared. If you're not scared, you can't be brave. And you're the bravest person I know._

_Second, you might not realize it, but there was a time when you were happy. It wasn't all the time, of course, there's always stuff that pisses people off. And you can't deny you get __**really **__pissed off. Do you wanna guess when the time was when you were happy, or should I tell you? I guess I should probably tell you, since I'm sure you'll say you have no idea… _

_You were happy when you worked with Holder. I know, I know, you were just partners. It didn't matter. You were happy when you were with him, whether you realized it or not. Which was amazing because you were working a depressing as hell job, investigating dead people and putting your lives in danger basically every day. I know that the concept of happiness is like a foreign concept to you, so I figured you needed someone to identify it for you._

_Don't get me wrong, your job sucked. And you let yourself get too involved, like you always do, and you forgot about me. A LOT. I'm not mad about that last part. I mean, I was at the time. But I look back, and I know that you did your best. As for letting yourself get too involved, it was the way that you showed you cared. I didn't understand it then, but I know you were doing the best you could to make the world safe._

_You should know how often Holder has told me over the years how amazing you were at being a cop. Yes, I still talk to him. You know he's the only guy you ever hung around with that I ever liked, even a little bit. And I liked him a LOT. I still do. He was the only one who never saw me as being in the way, like all the rest of them. He saw me as a person. And he cared - about both of us. And he still does. _

_Mom, you can't run forever. I know you're scared, like I said. But remember when I left for Chicago the first time, how you told me I was so strong? I'm strong because of you, mom. I'm strong because you taught me how to be, because you are too. You push people away because you're scared, but you don't have to be. Not everyone is going to leave. I'm far away, yes, but I'm not leaving. And deep down I think you know that Holder wouldn't either. He's been there for me for as long as I've known him._

_I know it's none of my business, but I'm not a little kid anymore. And I know you're thinking "But it's complicated!" BUT IT'S _NOT_. _

_I thought maybe I should tell you this stuff, because I think you really needed to hear it. Just please give him a chance. It's not too late._

_Love,_

_Jack_

Sarah rested her head on the steering wheel. Tears had started forming in her eyes by the time she was halfway through Jack's message. How did her little boy get so grown up? And how was he so wise that he could see _exactly_ what she was thinking?

She rarely ever sent texts, since her phone was so old and texting took so long, but at that moment she pulled out her phone, and typed out a text to Jack. Simply "_I love you." _He could apparently read her mind, so there was no need to say any more than that.

It was time to go somewhere and think. Sarah was actually feeling tired of running for the first time in five years. Did that mean something? Consulting one of the many, many maps from her collection in the backseat (GPS? Why bother?), she quickly decided where she was going next, at least for a few days. She finally located her wallet and filled the car with gas. She had another long drive ahead of her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Author's note:** There are still a few chapters left, but I'll be posting these a lot faster. I've been working on them all week, while also writing the earlier ones. Once I started, I just couldn't stop. Hope you will enjoy and review them!

**Chapter 11**

It was around 7:00 a.m. and Sarah stood at one of the overlooks along the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. The sun was rising, and the view was breathtaking. She had purposely asked a park ranger which of the overlooks tended to be the least crowded, figuring that none of them would have a _bad_ view, but hoping for as much solitude as possible.

After standing by the railing for a while, she found a large rock nearby that had a flat top which would make a perfect seat. She was hoping to be there for a little while, because she had a lot to think about.

She had decided that today, finally, she was going to embrace her demons. If she was going to do it anywhere, a seat facing the wide open expanse of canyon that stretched out before her was as good a place as any. It was enough to remind anyone of their insignificance in the universe. She was an expert at blocking things out, but after the past five years of running without getting anywhere, she had decided that it was time to stop and re-evaluate that technique. It had been a long, strange trip, and Jack's card had been a nudge in the direction that she had already been leaning, but hadn't quite admitted it to herself. She was still terrified, but she was determined to try. The alternative was to continue living the way she had been. Though she had chosen it, she didn't like it.

She took a deep breath, looked at the view, and let her mind drift.

"_You sure you wanna do this?" _She was back in the car with Holder outside of the Wapi Eagle Casino.

The "this" Holder was asking her about was breaking into the casino almost immediately after Holder had been released from the hospital. The last time they'd been there, they'd both been lucky to escape with their lives. He should have been at home resting, for sure. It was definitely not a smart chance to be taking.

"_Yeah." _Sarah had never shied away from a chance to find the truth, no matter what danger she put herself in or what rules she broke.

"_Let me go instead." _

He wanted to go into the casino instead of her. She focused on that for a minute. Here was Holder with severe injuries, and he wanted to go into almost certain danger in her place. She shook her head in disbelief. She had been so distracted that night, she had not understood the magnitude of his selflessness. He was trying to protect her no matter what the danger was to him, there was no other explanation.

When she _had_ snuck in the back door expecting him to wait in the car, he had walked in the front and created a spectacular distraction that allowed her to get upstairs undetected. She sighed, taking in the full meaning of all this. He would not have done it if he didn't care. She felt the familiar panic begin, but took a deep breath and steadied herself. She knew this was only the beginning.

...

The next memory was Reddick.

"_I offered Holder a deal…I figured he'd be the weak link, with the baby coming. Not you, Sarah… He told me to go fuck myself in the rear end."_

She smiled then. She had thought that was when Holder had turned on her, when in reality he had told Reddick to go fuck himself. He could have chosen to save himself and sacrifice her, **but he didn't.**

_I should've known, _she thought to herself for the millionth time. _I knew him better than that. Why did I assume that?_

_You were scared,_ said a voice in her head. _It was easier to believe that he would leave._

_..._

Suddenly, they were in Gil's storage unit, looking at each other across mounds of boxes of junk.

"_You OK, Linden?"_

"_I'm fine."_

"_You know you… you can talk to me, about whatever. If you want. I'm here."_

"_I know you are."_

She had said that she'd known, and she hadn't thought he was lying, but she still hadn't really believed it. While logically she _had_ known he would have been there for her, she wouldn't have opened up to him if there was any way to avoid it. She sighed and shook her head at herself. _Sarah, you could have…_

...

The next one was hazy. She had been pumped full of drugs in the psych ward at the time.

"_Please don't leave me here."_

"_I'm gonna get you outta here. Just hang tight for a couple hours. I'm not leaving you in here. You hear? I'm not leaving you here."_

She looked down at her hands and sighed. Oh, the things he had done for her. She had never asked him to do most of them, but he had done them anyway. The familiar twinge tugged at her heart. The one she usually pushed away, but this time she didn't. This time she let it run its course. Why had he done that? Any of it? She certainly didn't deserve it…

The memories were coming fast and furious now that she had given herself permission to remember. _This is what I'm here for_, she thought to herself. _The only way through it is through it._

...

"_Everybody thinks I'm some piece of shit tweak head. You seem to think I'm something better."_

"_Yeah, you're a 1-900-ROCKSTAR"_

Another one that made her smile. They had fought a lot over the years, especially in the beginning, but she was glad that she had seen the good in him when other people hadn't. Everyone deserved that.

Of course, that thought was followed a split second later by the knowledge that she had betrayed him in the _**worst**_ way, after he'd seen the good in _her_ when no one else had.

She embraced the thoughts. Today was the day _not_ to push them away. That hadn't worked.

She had done what she had done. Either he had forgiven her by now, or he hadn't.

...

"_It's you and me, Linden. We're on the same team, remember?"_

"_Are we?"_

She took a deep breath. It had been an emotional time, she reminded herself. Then again, it had _always_ been an emotional time in that job. Still, she hated that she had doubted him, and not just once. But there was nothing to be done about that now. Onward…

...

"_I would've been a lot better off on my own."_

"_I'm sorry Linden, I fucked up OK?"_

Why was it that she had been so quick to judge him? Because it was safer. It had always been safer to be on her own.

...

"_I don't want her to be alone all the time. I guess I just wish she still had someone to talk to."_

Jack. Her Jack. Worried about her. She could feel the tears prickling her eyes. It was supposed to be the other way around. He had been right about all of it. She owed it to both of them to try.

She looked up to see that the sun was now high overhead. That alone told her that she had been in that spot, thinking, for quite a few hours. Her watch told her that it was almost 11:30 a.m. She stood up and stretched, walked back up to the railing. She looked out over the deep canyon in the land before her. She was already mentally exhausted, but in a way, she felt lighter.

Did she dare think about what was next? She was working towards something with this self-help session… but could she really do it? Could she really go back to Seattle? She pulled Jack's card out of her jacket pocket and read it again, leaning on the railing and looking into the abyss in front of her.

_I know you're thinking "But it's complicated!" BUT IT'S _NOT_. _She reread that line over and over again, until she repeated it like a mantra.

_It's not complicated_, she told herself. _It's not complicated._

Suddenly, she needed to walk. She pushed herself back from the railing and headed for a path that wound off among the rocky underbrush. She told herself she wasn't going to walk too far. It would be a shame to get lost in the wilderness at the end of this five year journey.

She'd gone about a mile when she spotted something shiny in the dirt on the ground. She bent down to pick it up. It was a plastic key chain covered in dust. She brushed it off to reveal one sentence. _"Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time." –Maya Angelou_." She wasn't sure why, but she brushed the rest of the dust off of it and put it in her pocket. It may have been cheesy, but Maya Angelou may have been onto something. And right now, she could use all the inspirational good luck charms she could get.


	12. Chapter 12

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Chapter 12**

Jack had sent Holder a strange text earlier that week. All it said was _Throwing a Hail Mary. Fingers crossed_. Little Man was up to something, and Holder had a suspicion it had something to do with Linden. _I guess we'll see_, he had thought.

That Friday night, Holder didn't feel like staying in. He wasn't exactly sure where he was going or what he was looking for, but he drove through the city streets as if he did. He felt like he was on auto-pilot. Before he knew it, he had parked his car near Biltmore Pier, at the same place where they had found Linden after she'd been kidnapped by "Pastor Mike," and not far from where she had prevented him from becoming road kill a few years before that.

There wasn't much of a view of the river because of the dark, but he walked to the end of the ramp, where it dropped off, and sat down. He hadn't expected to find her there of course, but somehow this place – like that greasy diner, the police station and so many others – made him feel like she was almost there with him.

There was something about the darkness and the solitude here, and for a split second he thought it seemed like a place Linden would like. He immediately laughed at himself for thinking this, because Linden would definitely _NOT _have liked the view, considering how she ended up here last time.

Still, he didn't mind it here. After all, this was the place where he had found her, and where he had learned that she was safe. The relief at finding her there, alive, had been overwhelming, after the hours he'd spent feeling powerless to help her. It was a feeling he wasn't used to. He was used to being the one person who _could_ help her. They hadn't been just partners by then, they were friends. BFFs, as he always told her, which made her smirk.

He thought back to when he had finally seen "Pastor Mike" in handcuffs, when he had seen Linden fall to the ground with relief and exhaustion. He did the only thing he could do - sit beside her and rub her shoulder. She generally didn't like to be touched at all, but in this case, it had been the right thing to do. He couldn't have left her there, feeling like she was alone.

"_If another person asks me if I'm alright, I swear…"_

"_Well are you alright?"_

"_Yeah, …I'm fine."_

"_Thought I lost you there for a second. Just when I was getting used to you. That was scary, huh? …I should've gotten there sooner."_

"_But you got there. You found me."_

Linden was still a mystery to him, even after he'd had five years to think about her. But it seemed to him that though she was always trying to hide, she wanted to be found. To be proven wrong. She couldn't actually _want_ to live in the shadows, alone – could she? She'd been through so much, which he could certainly relate to, but he was lucky enough to have family who was still there for him. She didn't. That had to really mess a person up.

For almost as long as he'd known her, he had wanted to help her. A lot of the time he couldn't figure out why. She was not the nicest person to be around some – OK, a lot – of the time. Then again, neither was he. Maybe that's why they worked so well together. Most of their apologies had been unspoken. It had been clear, maybe not to anyone else but him, how very much she had needed him – even if she hadn't been able to admit it… or even if she hadn't been aware of it herself. He had messed up his own life so badly before he met her, it had felt good that someone needed him, even if it _was_ against her will. Sometimes she had just needed someone to make her eat, simple as that. Still, it had been nice to be needed. It had been nice to be around her, even when it hadn't been so nice… _Damn, Holder, you're not making any kind of sense!_ he told himself with a smile.

Memories of Linden kept coming back to him. It wasn't the first time that he'd thought of her in the past five years, but this time he surrendered to it.

...

She and Jack had showed up at his apartment. He knew it had only been because of her desperation and fear, that she really had nowhere else to go, but she had trusted him. Him. The one that so many other people looked at with disdain, including his own sister some of the time. Linden had been distracted and worried and hadn't even tried the breakfast he'd made for them… but still, she had come to him for help.

"_Trust me on this, Linden. You're safe. No one ever comes around here, not even Jehovah's Witnesses."_

He knew he hadn't taken away her worry – worry which had been warranted, as they later discovered – but he did his best. At least _he_ could know that she and Jack were safe, and give them a little bit of a distraction for a night.

...

There was the day Jack had gone missing.

"_I have this friend, and she needs me. …I have to see this through."_

He had watched Linden almost lose her mind that day, understandably so. Linden was one strong woman, but that was too much even for her. Once again he had been powerless to do anything. All he could do was go with her on her search, and grip her tightly when she had nearly gone crazy, thinking that the teenage boy they'd found dead was Jack.

Despite what a horrible day that had been, there had never been a question in his mind that he had made the right decision by not leaving her side. He had missed Davey's school parade and Liz had been pissed at him, but it had been the right thing to do. He was realizing that there wasn't a lot that he _wouldn't_ have done for Sarah Linden.

...

The day Jack had left for Chicago… another rough one. As soon as he found out that the flight was leaving that day, he knew that Linden was going to be in a bad place. He checked himself out of the hospital as soon as Jack had called him. He found her standing by the window next to the gate, Little Man already on the plane… but he got there for her, and that was what had mattered most. Once again, there was nothing to be done but stand there together. The important thing had been, he was there.

...

He knew that he hadn't always been a good friend to her – she wasn't always an easy one to get along with! – but he could honestly say he'd done his best. He marveled over the fact that there had always seemed to be some kind of understanding between the two of them. _Almost_ without exception, only one of them could lose their mind at a time. That way, they always had someone to lean on.

Holder stood up and stretched. Time to get home. Whatever Little Man was up to, only time would tell. All he knew was, there had been a whole lot of years that he hadn't had the chance to be there for Sarah Linden, and he didn't like it. He has pretty sure she hadn't let anyone else in in his place, and that made him truly sad for her.

_One day at a time, _he reminded himself. _You never know._


	13. Chapter 13

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Chapter 13**

It felt strange to Sarah to drive back into Seattle. There's something to be said for returning to a place where you lived for so many years, but have been away from for a significant chunk of time. Things are the same, but they're different. It all looks familiar, but at the same time, the fact that it looks familiar feels strange. You wonder about what has changed that you can't see. Or if something big has changed, and you just don't notice.

_It's not complicated._

Sarah hadn't quite figured out how or where to approach Holder. Getting to Seattle was the easy part. Now she was here, to finally see him – not just in her mind, but in person – after all this time. But how? Where? When? She didn't want to call him first. She wasn't sure how she'd do over the phone. No, she needed to see him face to face. The phone had always just been for relaying information back and forth between them. That was all they needed it for, since they had almost always been together.

_Together. In that stupid, smelly car, mostly._

So, that left only a few choices. Jack had just happened to include information about where Holder was now working when they had last talked. Damn, but that kid was sneaky! She hadn't reacted to the information, or told him about her plan, but either he had suspected her next move, or he just had a lot of hope. Jack had also mentioned that Holder had moved to a different apartment in the same building. A 2 bedroom place, now that his daughter was in the picture. This was helpful to know.

So, since she wasn't going to run into him on the street (or at least, it was a lot less likely), she could choose from his apartment building or his new job. There were possible complications with both options, and it was a hard decision.

_Yes, it's time to finally do this. Come on, Sarah, __**it's not complicated**__. It's OK to be scared, but you're brave._

It had been mid-day when she arrived in Seattle, so after wrestling with the decision for a few hours (she wasn't sure quite how many hours had gone by) she decided that if she wanted to make this happen today (_TODAY? Could she really do this?)_, his apartment was the best option. She knew where the building was, and she had the new apartment number. It almost seemed too easy. _Let's not get ahead of ourselves_, said the little voice in her head. _Nothing is ever easy, remember? Not for you._

_But it's not complicated. It's not easy, but it's not complicated._

She drove around the block and noticed that his car was parked nearby. OK, so far so good. She parked on what she was pretty sure was the opposite side of the building from his apartment. No sense in being noticed before she even got there. She was relieved (and a little concerned) to see that even five years later, the latch on the front door of the building was still broken, so she could enter without being let in. She consulted the apartment number that Jack had given her, and found it easily on the fourth floor. She was feeling the all too familiar feeling of panic rising inside her. The closer she got to the door, she slower she moved. She focused on taking deep breaths.

_Was this the right way to do it? _

_Should she have called first, after all? _

_Why was this so HARD?_

_It's not complicated. It's not complicated. It's not complicated._

_But… What if he wasn't alone in there?_

She was already in front of the door when she had that last thought. She hadn't knocked yet, but in another three seconds she would have. She froze on the spot, her hand in mid-air. She had definitely not thought this through well enough. It must have been her impatience getting the best of her, because there were 29 different ways this could go wrong, if not more.

Without hesitating for a single second, she turned around and almost _ran_ down the hallway, into the elevator, then out the front door and back to her car. She couldn't bear a repeat of the day she had missed the last ferry to Vashon Island, not even realizing it was Valentine's Day, and shown up at his place – only to discover that Caroline was there as well. To make matters worse, Holder had forgotten it was Valentine's Day, and then they had been called in to work. The whole thing had been awkward as hell.

Sarah started driving, and ended up at one of the same run down motels where she'd stayed with Jack all those years ago. It was familiar, though not necessarily in a good way. But it didn't matter.

Twenty minutes after arriving at the motel, she was still sitting in the car. There was no rush. She had nowhere to be until the following day.

_It's like a pattern with you, you know that? You always leaving, running, never stay… Cause if you did, then you'd want it. You'd need it. And then you could get hurt. And left. And not left. What the hell happened to you, Linden? Why you always taking off?_

_We never stay, and in the end we lose everyone._

_I'm not going to lose this time. I'm not. It's not too late._

She wasn't giving up. It wasn't like before. She was going to prove to Holder that this time, she wasn't going to run. Better yet, she was going to prove it to _herself_.

_It's not complicated._

She'd have to try again outside his work the next day.

_I can do this._

_It's not complicated._

…

It was a Tuesday, and that's all Holder needed to explain the day he was having. It had been long and frustrating, though nothing out of the ordinary had happened to make it so. This was just the nature of Tuesdays.

He was falling asleep on the couch in front of the TV, and decided he may as well get himself ready for bed. The sooner he went to bed, the sooner Tuesday would be over. Wednesdays were always better.

The remote control for the TV had fallen down beside the couch, and it took him a minute to find it. He pressed the button to turn off the TV, and tossed the remote back down on the couch. Pulling himself up with a tired groan, he stretched and yawned. _Definitely time to get some sleep_. Sleep was something he was getting a lot more of these days than he had as a cop, though that wasn't saying much. He had sometimes gone for days on end without sleeping when he had been partners with Linden.

_Linden._

He couldn't explain what made him walk slowly to the door and peer through the peep hole just then. There was no sign of anyone or anything out of the ordinary through the fish-eye view of the peep hole. Quietly, he opened his door and looked up and down the hall. There was no sign of anyone, only the dinging of the elevator around the corner, just out of sight.

_Hmmm, _he thought. _Weird. _There was a faint scent in the air that he couldn't identify. It smelled the only the slightest bit different than usual. For some reason, it made him think of –

_That's impossible, _he thought. _It's absolutely crazy._ _I must be a lot more tired than I thought._

He closed his door again, and turned around to face his empty apartment.

That couch…

_I'm sorry, _he had tried to kiss her_._

_It doesn't matter,_ she had said._ It's gonna be OK._

Holder shook his head and sighed, walking down the hall towards a good night's sleep. At least Tuesday was almost over.

_One day at a time, _he told himself. _Have faith._


	14. Chapter 14

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Author's Note**: This was one of the most fun chapters to write. It even gives me chills to read it... Enjoy!

**Chapter 14**

The next day felt like a year. Sarah resigned herself to the fact that she probably wouldn't have a chance to see him until later in the day, but she wasn't sure what time he was working. She decided it didn't matter, she could sit outside and wait for him all day, if that was what it took.

Sitting in her car in the motel parking lot, she retrieved Jack's card from her pocket. She reread it several times, letting his words wash over her. _Could it really be so simple?_

_You need to let someone in. _

_If you're not scared, you can't be brave. And you're the bravest person I know._

_You were happy when you worked with Holder._

_Not everyone is going to leave. _

_And I know you're thinking "But it's complicated!" _

_BUT IT'S _NOT_. _

Finally, she took a deep breath, returned the card to her pocket, and started the car.

Sarah had been sitting on the bench, waiting for Holder to come out of the church where he now led NA meetings, for the past thirty minutes. Or maybe it had been three hours. She was so anxious, she couldn't judge time properly. She didn't bother checking her watch. The time didn't matter.

She was simultaneously excited and terrified.

_Maybe you wanna count to ten or something? _When he'd asked her that so long ago, she hadn't been so good at counting to ten, or calming down. She still wasn't good at it, but she counted to ten now, and it did help a little.

_It's not complicated._

_Not everyone is going to leave._

She knew there was no reason in the world to be scared. Holder was the last person she should be afraid of. But it had been five years that she hadn't seen or talked to him.

Except in her mind. Every day. This was going to be very different.

Holder came out of the back door of the church and started down the stairs without looking up. When he did, his surprise showed on his face.

_She's here… _He couldn't wrap his mind around what he was seeing in front of him. He wasn't dreaming, he was sure. _Little Man had something to do with this_.

Sarah was relieved. The last time she'd seen him, she'd pointed a gun at him. Time changes things, sure, but that had been a major betrayal. And yet there he was, and he looked happy to see her.

"Oh snap! 1-900-LINDEN. Dial and you shall receive." Linden laughed at Holder's familiar style of jokes, which she hadn't heard for the past five years.

_She laughed. That's a good sign! But damn, she looks nervous._

"Hi… Hi Holder."

_Please words, don't fail me now. This is important._

"What up, Linden?"

_She's here. She's actually here._

"I heard you got a new job."

_The past five years have been good to him._

"I see you got a new scarf."

_There's something different about her. She looks more at peace than last time I saw her._

"Yeah, Ross Dress for Less 3 for 1 rack."

_A joke! That's definitely a good sign!_

"Oh snap! Linden's got jokes?"

_This feels so right, standing here joking with him. I feel like it was only yesterday…_

They paused, just smiling at each other.

"You're lookin good."

"You too. You look happy."

"Happy, joyous and free, that's me." Pause. "I'm a daddy. Got a little girl."

_It's so good to see him so happy._

"That's so great. What's her name?"

"Kalia."

"Awhhh, that's great."

"It's the Goddess of Life and Death in the Hindustani tradition."

"Oh so you're Hindu now?"

"You know how we do."

Sarah exhaled and breathed a little easier. _Same old Holder. Maybe it would be OK after all._

They paused again, still just looking at each other and smiling.

She felt her nerves return, ever so slightly. _What do we say now?_

_Well, I might as well ask._

"So why'd you come back?" Holder got right to the point.

"I'm not back. I'm just passing through. I've been on the road a lot, the last few years. Umm, I was in Chicago for a while. Jack's in college now. He's almost as tall as you."

_Where did that come from?_ _Just passing through?_ _Am I? I hadn't thought any farther ahead than here and now… _The words had just come out, though the part about being on the road was true. She really had only thought ahead to this moment. But it was better to say that. Who knew what Holder was thinking? He might not want her around…

"What? Damn!" There was another pause. "So did you find him on your travels in the big wide world, Linden? The bad guy?"

_I remember when we talked about this. About The Bad Guy._

"There is no bad guy. There's just, I dunno, life."

_I'm so glad you're here, Linden._

"We tried at least. You gotta give us credit for trying."

"Yeah, we did." Yet another pause. "Anyway, I just, umm… it's good to see you, Holder."

Linden was at a loss. _After all this time, how can I say everything I want to say, when I don't even know what exactly it is that I want to say? _

She stared into his eyes intently and hoped that if she did so intensely enough, she wouldn't have to say anything – he would just know. It seemed to her that many things between them had been said without words over the years.

"So why're you here? For real. Hmm?"

_I asked him that when he came to Vashon to see me_, she remembered. _When he came to lure me back to work with that case file, when I was hiding. How is it possible that we know each other so well? No one has __**ever**__ seen me this clearly before._

_And why __**am**__ I here? How can I explain it?_

He was genuinely curious to find out why she was there. Happy, of course, but what had brought her back now, after five years? It couldn't have been solely whatever Little Man did. Linden loved her son, but she was stubborn as hell, and she wouldn't be back here if she hadn't decided she was good and ready. He was also curious about the Hail Mary that Little Man had referred to. He'd have to ask one or both of them about that someday.

She exhaled. "I never had a real house to grow up in, you know, a home? And I never belonged anywhere. And all my life I was looking for that, THING, you know, thinking that it was out there somewhere, and all I had to do was find it." Pause. "But I think maybe, that home was us. It was you and me, together in the stupid car." She laughed. "Riding around, smoking cigarettes, I think that was everything."

She stopped, but he knew she wasn't finished. He waited patiently.

_It's not complicated, Sarah. Just say it._

"I'm sorry." As she said it, her voice cracked.

His heart broke a little bit just then. He knew her well enough to know the amount of pain she had carried around with her for her entire life, and it would have been enough to break most people. The fact that he had done something, even inadvertently and five years ago, to increase her burden was almost too much for him to bare.

He smiled and shook his head, hoping that she could see from that small gesture that there was no bitterness left. The fact that she was apologizing to him, when he felt that he should be apologizing to her, made him feel even worse. Sarah Linden did not do emotions easily, and he could only imagine how difficult this conversation was for her.

_God, this is hard,_ she thought.

_It's not complicated. It's not complicated._

"I should have known that you were one person who _always_ stays. I mean, you were my best friend."

_At least she knows now_, he thought._ I couldn't make her see it back then – everything we were going through was just too much – but at least she sees it now. Will it be enough?_

_It's worth a shot. Here goes nothing._

"Why don't you stay? _Stay_."

Holder knew that with Sarah, he had to keep it short and simple. Besides, those were the only five words he could get out. He wanted to say more, but even if he could have, he knew that she'd be overwhelmed by it. He knew that there was **nothing** he could say to make her stay if she decided to run again. Saying more, or doing more, would only make it worse.

He hoped desperately that his face wasn't giving away how much he wanted to kiss her. It was all he could do to maintain the space between them. He didn't take his eyes off of her face though, trying to impart how seriously he meant what little he _had _said by not breaking eye contact.

In her head, her mind was screaming, shrieking, for her to run. And yet, for once, though she could hear the voice, she didn't let it control her. It was as if that voice were coming from far away, instead of being right in her ear, and she could almost shut it out.

Besides, she _wanted_ to talk to him. No, she _needed _to talk to him. That was what she'd come here for, what she'd wanted for five years, though she had never been able to admit it to herself. She wasn't really sure what else she'd come here for beyond that, only that she had seen him literally everywhere she had run to… no matter how she had tried not to, no matter how she'd tried to tell herself that they were both better off without the chaos and destruction that seemed to follow her everywhere. And this wasn't just anyone, this was _Holder_. The only person who had ever seemed to get her.

_I can do this_, she repeated over and over in her head.

_It's not complicated. It's not complicated. _

_NOT EVERYONE LEAVES._

Still, she felt panic rising in her. It was easier to make excuses.

"Umm, I think that this city's a city of the dead for me."

"It's a matter of perception, ain't it? Close your eyes." _I know it's a long shot. But I have to try._

"What?"

"Just close your eyes." _Come on, Linden. Give me a chance._

"No! You're so weird." _What's he doing? I want to, but…_

"Just close your eyes. Give it a try. Maybe you'll see what's really there. What's standing right in front of you. It ain't ghosts, Linden. It ain't the dead." _It's me. I've been here all along._

_I'm sorry, Holder. I want to, but I can't._

She knew that he was asking her to trust him. She wasn't sure exactly what he planned to do if she closed her eyes, and it wasn't that she didn't trust him… On the contrary, she trusted him with her life. He had saved her life, both physically and emotionally, on more than one occasion. But somehow she got the feeling that was what he was asking her to trust him with more than her life… her heart.

Her resolve about this whole situation was beginning to weaken. Maybe she _couldn't_ do this. Maybe Jack was wrong, and it _was_ too complicated. Maybe it had been a mistake to come here… As much as she desperately wanted to believe that this was where she belonged – here with Holder – maybe she only believed it because she _wanted to_ believe it. She felt the panic rising, but this time she couldn't fight it.

Dammit, she'd promised herself that she would be stronger than this. She _**knew**_ that it really wasn't him she was running from, but herself. She had tried that for five years, and it hadn't worked.

_I'm shaking. Can he see it too?_

"I'm gonna get a ticket, I should go…" She tried to pass him, but he moved in front of her at the same time.

_Last chance… _he thought.

"Linden..."

_Please… _he thought.

"Yeah?"

_I can't do this… _she thought.

They paused, just looking at each other.

Holder knew he had pushed too hard._ She's going to run. I just want to make it all better for her, but I know her, so I know that I can't. I can hear the wheels in her head turning._

Though he wished he could convince her to stay, he resigned himself to the fact that she would leave. He looked deep into her eyes, trying to see all the way to her soul, and to tell her everything that he knew he wouldn't get the chance to say.

"Bye." Holder hated to say it.

In his mind, he added _Hey, keep in touch. You're my ride, ya know?_

They stared at each other for another moment, with so much between them that needed to be said, and neither one knowing where to begin.

"Bye." Linden hated to say it.

In her mind, she added _Thanks for being my ride, Holder._

_**But why can't I say it? **__Why am I saying goodbye at all?_

Then he hugged her, the kind of hug that hurt his heart, because he knew that she would run as soon as he let go of her. Having her in his arms for those few seconds felt like the most natural thing in the world. Like that's where they should have ended up. Not saying goodbye.

_Is it for good this time? Please don't let it be._ He wasn't sure he could do this. He let go of her only reluctantly.

And that was that. She walked away, got in her car and drove off.

_Why am I doing this? Why am I running? It wasn't supposed to be complicated!_

Holder walked slowly across the road, still hoping against hope that she'd change her mind. That she'd turn around. He stood in the middle of that road and watched her go. He let out a heavy sigh when the car rounded the corner and he lost sight of it.

It had been five years since she had left the last time. Five years ago he'd been so angry, she had been easier to push her out of his mind. A clean break, for the best, etc etc. This time… he shook his head sadly. This time hurt. He remembered that the ten minute break he had given his NA group was nearly over, so he headed back inside. He was grateful for the distraction.

_Come on, Linden. It's not complicated._


	15. Chapter 15

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Chapter 15**

As Sarah drove farther and farther away from the only place she really wanted to be, she felt like she was dying inside. _Why am I doing this? _her insides were screaming. _I don't want to run!_ She wanted desperately to _stop_ running. It was what she'd wanted all along! No one would actually _want_ to live like this.

_So what's the problem? Just turn around and go back!_

She couldn't believe she had just driven away from him, _again_, after he had actually _asked_ her to stay. He look on his face had said so much more than those five words that he had said.

_Why don't you stay? Stay._

She might have been wrong, but she had felt like he had been trying to look all the way into her soul. And while that was yet another thing that scared her, out of all the people she had ever known, he was the only one who might actually have been able to have done it.

_But it's too complicated._

She felt like she was falling apart, losing her mind even more than she ever had before. More than during the Seward case that landed her in the psych ward, more than the Larsen case, the Pied Piper case, or the final mess with Skinner. Still, she didn't let tears come. She willed them not to, wondering all the while how long she would be able to hold them back before she would finally burst.

Breathing unevenly, she drove through the city streets and out of town, to the outskirts where she could get a good look at the skyline. She'd always loved it out here, and she needed a place to think. Looking out over the water at the city from far away, she suddenly realized why she liked the view so much… it was because it was beautiful, of course, but mainly because she was on the outside, looking in. The daily life of the city and its people were there, but they were a safe distance away… the perfect metaphor for her life; for how she always kept herself at a distance from people, from life in general. **She was hiding again, like she always had.**

Finally, it was just too much.

She sank to her knees where she stood, and finally, _finally_, let the tears come. Once the dam was opened, it was like she was crying for every heartache she had ever been through, and there had been many. She collapsed forwards, her face on her forearms against the ground, her tears uncontrollable.

_It's too complicated. I just CAN'T._

For a while it felt like the tears would never stop. But eventually, they did.

Sarah felt exhausted, but also relieved. She sat up, brushed herself off, and got to her feet. The view was still breathtaking, and she felt like she was seeing it for the first time. Breathing deeply, she trying to expel the negative and inhale something new.

_Not everyone leaves. _She wanted to believe it, but to do so was the thing that scared her most of all.

She had never let anyone in, because that way they couldn't leave her - like the important people in her life had done so early on. That was just how she had learned to keep herself safe.

_No one is going to find you out here, literally or figuratively, unless you let them. If you don't take the risk, none of this will __**ever**__ get better_, she told herself.

This remote place, just like the running she had done for the past five years, had kept her "safe" from connecting with people – but at what cost? If she wanted to be "found," which she did, she realized that she would have to go back – back to him. She had run far enough that even Holder wasn't going to – no, had never been **able** to – follow her.

_He would have followed you, if you had ever given him the chance._ She knew it was the truth, and she hung her head. She had been so unfair to him.

_But what if..._ She felt her pulse quickening just with the thought, though it wasn't even a complete sentence, and took long, slow breaths to calm her rising heart rate.

_What if WHAT, Sarah? _she asked herself angrily. _What if you end up alone? Because you're already alone! It's already the worst that can happen._

She was furious with herself for putting up such a fight. It needed to stop.

_How long are you going to do this? _she continued in her head. _Are you going to run for the rest of your life? Because if you __**ever**__ plan to stop running, this is the time to do it. There is actually someone who cares about you. No matter WHAT questions and excuses you can come up with, you know it's true. You don't want to admit it, but deep down you __**know**__ he won't leave you. _

_It's scary, yes, but it's __**not**__ complicated._

She knew that she was right, the voice of reason in her head, but still she fought it.

_NOT EVERYONE LEAVES_, her rational self was howling. It was as if she was screaming at herself inside her own head, trying to get the message through the years' worth of protective walls that she had built around herself.

_Yes, of course you're scared. But he's proven to you so many times that he's not going anywhere! You didn't even notice it back then, you were so busy pushing him away. But really, really think back to all the times when he could have left, and he didn't. He could have told them that you shot Skinner, for God's sake, __**but he didn't.**__ He went out of his way to show you that he wasn't leaving, you just chose not to see it. _

_This – whatever it is that you're doing to yourself - it has to stop! Because now you __**do **__see it. And because eventually, if you wait long enough, he __**won't**__ be there anymore, and then you really __**will**__ be alone. You're lucky he's waited this long!_

Just this conversation, almost an argument, with herself, left her feeling defeated and drained, and she dropped back down in the grass, hugging her knees to her chest, resting her forehead on her knees. She gulped in the cool air, and slowly the feeling panic, of suffocating, went away.

_It's so hard. All of it. Why does it have to be so hard?_

She looked up then, cleared her mind, and just concentrated on the skyline. Her city. She'd criss-crossed the country again and again, but no other city had felt like home. But it wasn't just anywhere in Seattle that was home. Not even here, in the shadows that she loved so much.

_I was right, before… Home is with him_, she thought with sudden clarity. How in the world had she never seen it before?

_Maybe it's __**not**__ complicated._

All at once it was just that simple – everything else was just noise. She sat a while longer, taking slow, deep breaths, and suddenly feeling lighter than she had in as long as she could remember. It was as though the weight of the world had been lifted from her. She knew what she was going to do. It wouldn't be easy, by any means, but there was only one choice.


	16. Chapter 16

**Title: **Running

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** The Stansbury case was closed. The mess with Skinner was "cleared up." And Sarah Linden ran. Again.

**Spoilers: **Watch the series finale before reading this!

**Chapter 16**

Holder made it through the rest of his meeting. It wasn't easy, but he held himself together. Afterwards, he chatted with the other group members as they got ready to leave, and eventually everyone was gone. He was going to have to face the reality waiting for him outside, that she had come and gone. _Have faith_, he told himself, but this time it sounded hollow.

He grabbed his keys, exited the same door he had come out earlier, when she'd been waiting for him, and locked the door behind him. He dreaded the moment when he would have to turn around and see the empty space where she had been only a few hours before.

When he finally did look up, his heart skipped a beat. There she was again, this time sitting in her car. He let go of a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding and he said a silent "thank you" – to God or Buddha or whoever had brought her back. This time, they'd somehow get it right. They had to.

After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, she saw him come out of the building and lock the door behind him. She was nervous, but not in the same way that she had been earlier that day.

_It's not complicated,_ she reminded herself. It had become her mantra.

She got out of the car and closed the door behind her. As he walked down the steps, a look of disbelief on his face, she smiled ever so slightly and took a few steps forward to meet him. It was as though their eyes were locked on each other, neither one wanting to be the one to break the connection. As if there was a spell that would be broken, and one of them would disappear if they looked away.

It felt to him like it took an eternity to cross the pavement to where she had stopped. He didn't dare quicken his pace, for fear of making her run again. She looked calmer than she had when she left, but Linden had the inner turmoil thing down, this much he knew. He stopped a few inches in front of her, both of them smiling shyly.

Holder decided to speak first, to break the ice. "Hey. You're back."

Linden's eyes darted around, and she blushed, but she continued to smile. "Yeah."

_It's not complicated. It's not complicated._

He looked down and noticed that her hands were shaking.

_Just breathe, Linden, _he thought. _It's OK. You're safe._

Holder tried to give her a reassuring smile. He held out one hand to her, and she took it. Now he could _feel_ that her hand was shaking.

"You OK, Linden?" he asked with concern in his voice. _How many times had he said that to her over the years?_ It was calming and familiar, and she relaxed slightly.

"Yeah," she whispered.

He intertwined his fingers with hers gently, before bringing her hand to his lips. He kissed the back of her hand once, then returned their hands, fingers still woven together, back down to where they'd started, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

_It's __**not**__ complicated. It's perfect_, she thought in awe. She took another deep breath. Her panic subsided ever so slightly, but what was before her was still scary. She owed him an explanation.

"Come and sit down," he said, tugging her toward the bench that he'd found her waiting on earlier that day. He knew that she wanted to talk – he did too – and he knew that it was going to be hard for her.

_Just breathe, Linden, _he thought again. _You can do it. It's just me._

They sat next to each other on the bench, facing each other and still holding hands. Holder wasn't going to let go of her if it was at all possible.

_He deserves an explanation, _she reminded herself. _It's not complicated_. _It's just Holder. Just talk to him._

Linden took a deep breath and finally spoke, focusing on their hands, resting together on her knee. "I panicked before." She raised her eyes to look at him, and he just smiled and nodded slightly as he had earlier, wanting to encourage her, but not to break her momentum by speaking.

She took another deep breath. _Keep going. You can do it._ She continued, looking down again.

"The past five years, I've been everywhere. I drove all over the country, back and forth, with no plan whatsoever. I didn't know if I was running from something, or to something, or where it was, or who." She stopped again, took a deep breath, glanced up at him, then looked down again. Her voice became almost a whisper, but she forced herself to continue.

"I saw you everywhere I went. Everything made me think of you. Cigarettes, guys in hoodies, vending machines, police cars, Funyuns…" They both smiled at that one. "…_everything._ I tried so hard to fight it, to tell myself I had to forget, that it was better – that _**you**_ were better off… that if _**I**_ were you, I never would've forgiven me… but…" she stopped again, and closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. She opened them again, still looking at their hands, and continued. "…in the end I realized, the person I was running from… was me."

Holder watched her carefully, determined to let her finish before he said anything. Once again, he knew all too well how difficult this was for her.

_I'm here,_ he thought. He slowly stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

"I just… You know this, I'm not used to having anything good." Her voice was starting to break. He squeezed her hand again, gently.

_You can do it_, she told herself._ He's still here. Not everyone leaves._

_It's OK, Linden._

Shaking her head sadly, she continued. "And when I do, I… I destroy it. Not just destroy it, I demolish it. Smash it to bits and set it on fire. You've watched me do it over and over." She finally looked up at him again, her smile gone and her eyes full of pain.

Holder didn't miss a beat. Looking straight at her, he replied "And you've watched me do the same thing, Linden, just as many times. And both of us are still here." She nodded and looked off into the distance. He could see how hard she was fighting her inner demons. He paused, because he could anticipate her reaction to his next sentence, but he knew she needed to hear it out loud.

"Hey," he said, and waited until she looked back up at him. He wanted her to see how much he meant it. "Not everyone leaves."

_How does he DO that? How does he know?_

She closed her eyes, pursed her lips, and inhaled a shaky breath, exhaling slowly. She hadn't thought she had any tears left after that afternoon, but a few slipped out then. When she opened her eyes, he was watching her with concern. She managed a sad smile.

"That's the scariest one to believe in," she whispered.

Holder leaned down just far enough to rest his forehead on hers.

"Trust me on this, Linden. You're safe."

_He told me that before, _she remembered suddenly. _Years ago in his apartment during the Rosie Larsen case._

That night she had been scared, and had had no one else to turn to. It had been hard for her to believe these words then. Impossible, actually. But now? It was easy. She was scared to let go, yes. But she had never felt safer in her life.

She smiled, closed her eyes and leaned forward against his chest. Holder let go of her hand, and put both of his arms around her. He rested his cheek on her shoulder and exhaled slowly. He felt her uneven breathing and knew she was probably crying. He held on tighter.

They sat like that for a few minutes, until she was breathing normally again. Finally Linden leaned back to sit up, and Holder let his arms drop to allow her to. This time he took both of her hands in his, needing to keep the connection. He couldn't help but be afraid that she would run again.

It was as if she read his mind. _Say it,_ she told herself. _It's only fair._

"I'm sorry I ran."

Holder shook his head again, the same head shake that had meant d_on't apologize _before. "Linden, you're here, that's what matters. It's kinda the only thing that matters." She smiled at him, because now he was tossing _**her**_ words from long ago back at her. Did he remember _everything_ that either of them had ever said to each other?

"Are we recycling all our old conversations today, or what?" she laughed.

"Maybe we are!" he laughed, thankful for a light moment.

She looked at him seriously again. _Say it_, she told herself. _He deserves to hear it out loud, because you know he's still wondering._

"I'm done running." She said simply, looking straight into his eyes.

_Finally_, he thought.

"Good," he said. "Cause I _think_ I could get used to having you round here again." They both smiled then, and the look exchanged between them said even more than the words they said.

"Yeah, you're my ride so, I guess you're stuck with me." She had told him that years before, but this time she meant it.

_Thank goodness_, he thought.

He saw tears forming in the corners of her eyes once again, but he knew they were happy tears this time. Once again, he said a silent prayer of thanks to whoever in the universe had helped Linden find her way back. She'd had a hell of a journey, but she never had been one to do things the easy way. And though it sounded cheesy even to him, he couldn't help but be thankful for every bad decision he'd made in his life, every heartache and every missed opportunity. Because without these, he might never have ended up where he was just then. And missing out on **this** moment would have been an even greater tragedy than _anything_ that had happened to him up until then.

_She's right. This is home_, thought Holder_._

There had never, ever in her life been a time when Sarah Linden felt this happy. She could not even have imagined that it was possible. After everything she had been through, every horrible thing that had happened to her, every way she had sabotaged her _own_ happiness… Somehow, she had found her way here.

_This is what home feels like,_ she thought in awe_._

And just like that, none of the rest of it mattered at all. Jack had been right after all. It really **wasn't** complicated.

Holder let go of one of her hands, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He stroked her cheek gently with the backs of his fingertips.

"Hey Linden…" Holder started, but trailed off. Now he was the one at a loss for words.

Sarah smiled. "I know, Holder, me too."

They still hadn't broken eye contact.

He cupped his hand against her cheek, and she leaned into it ever so slightly, smiling. They both leaned forward slowly, meeting halfway, and their lips met softly.

They both knew that their pasts would still haunt them. And that even together, there were plenty of demons left to fight. But finally, _**finally**_, it really wasn't complicated, because they weren't alone anymore.

...

Jack looked up from studying when he heard a familiar beep from his phone, the one that told him that he had a text. He smiled when he saw that it was from his mom. She so rarely texted him, and he opened it with great interest. He hadn't heard from her or from Holder since he had texted Holder the previous week…

_You were right, Jack. It's not complicated. Thanks for reminding me. I love you._

He smiled broadly. _Finally_, he thought, his eyes watering just a little. _Finally, she can stop running._

**_Author's Note_**_: I __**really**__ hate to see this story end. I'm sad to let Linden and Holder go – I feel like the show just ended all over again! __It was __**so**__ much more fun to write this than I had imagined it would be, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. I know it was a little bit cheesy, especially at the end, but I felt like these two kinda deserved a cheesy happy ending after everything they've been through. Thank you __**so much**__ to those of you who left me reviews. As a first time fanfic writer, your encouragement meant a lot. _


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